Better
by marianna
Summary: Logan and Veronica are stuck spending an afternoon together. Set early in S2, at right about Green Eyed Monster.
1. Chapter 1

"Can I ask you a question?" She jumps suddenly, almost as if she's shocked to see him, even though he's been on the opposite end of the couch for the better part of an hour.

"I'm not up for a fight, Logan." She responds weakly, closing her eyes as she rubs her temples.

"I'm not either." He responds, just a _second_ too late and she can tell he's been looking at her. A stab of pain shoots low within her, but shivering, she pushes it away, pulling the blanket at her knees up around her and refusing to acknowledge his pain. She has enough to deal with as it is. Almost instinctively she knows when he's looked away, and sneaks a peak in his direction. He remains silent even though he can feel her eyes on him. It's a vicious cycle they have going, but neither seems to be able to look away.

"Fine, Logan. Ask away." He can hear the weariness in her tone, even though she's obviously trying to hide it and it makes him ache for her. Her eyes are closed when he turns to face her, and she's managed to burrow under the cover, creating a security blanket around herself. That of all things, doesn't surprise him. Veronica Mars as the Impenetrable Fortress of Solitude. He could see it now.

"You can only handle the silent treatment when you dish it out yourself, huh Mars?" He responds after another moment of just looking at her. His words are just a beat _too_ off again, and inwardly he curses himself, but its so hard to look away from her. Especially when her guard is down. He can barely breath when she cracks open her eyes, and he sees the fire blazing within them.

"Alright, that's it. I'm going. Could you tell Duncan-" His fingers wrap around her forearm, and as she tries to pry them off with her other hand, he gazes up at her, an apologetic smile tilting his lips.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Okay?" She can tell that he's laughing at her, even though his lips haven't moved, and gazing down at him, something within her shifts. "Don't go." She nods, almost imperceptibly and sits back down on the couch, wrapping the comforter around her again, but even tighter this time.

"You never asked your question." She says in a soft voice, minutes later. An explosion comes from the television, and for the first time since she agreed to stay, her eyes focus on the picture on the screen. _Thank _God_ Die Hard is an easy movie to pick up on. I'd fail the written exam._

"It's not important." He responds, suddenly uneasy. He doesn't want to know the answer, he realizes. It's better off this way. The torture is certainly easier to take.

"If you say so." She responds petulantly. She can barely control herself from sticking her tongue out like a huffy child. To top it off, his reticence in responding makes her want to know even more, and she knows it'll drive her crazy if she doesn't find out soon. Damn Logan for making everything so complicated. _What could he possibly want to know that he already doesn't?_ "Do you know when Duncan'll be back?" She asks purposely after a second, knowing the affect the D-word will have on him. His ears redden, and his eyes fasten onto Bruce Willis' flailing form. _Finally, _some_ emotion._

"He has League Meets, and he said he would be late. So uh, _late_." She laughs at his response, and it's the same bright, twinkley chime he hasn't heard since the beginning of the summer. His gut wrenches. He can't seem to get their time together out of his head, but she's obviously over it. _Over it-she's dating Mr. Perfect now. She's so over it she's probably forgotten that it ever happened._ Just for that he wants to kiss her, he even shifts a little for easier access, but even as he's calculating how to get her into his arms, he knows he won't. There are lines that even Logan Echolls won't cross, and this is one of them. And despite their differences, despite everything, despite the fact that he _knows_ Duncan _isn't_ at League Meets, it isn't worth it. He glances back at the picture of them again, balanced precariously over the television for the entire world to see. How young and carefree they were then. But they hadn't been. Not really-what with Lilly and the secrets in her eyes, his own father's drunken beatings and then…Veronica. Sweet and simple, constantly in Lilly's shadow...she'd been easy to look over then, but not now, with her shorter tougher hair and her-_She's growing her hair out_.

"Right. How could I forget? He's driving two hours out of his way to try and teach underprivileged kids how to play soccer. My boyfriend the humanitarian." Her voice breaks into his realizations, and he responds with the first thought that comes to mind.

"Sort of like my girlfriend the Action Figure." As his words sink in, she remembers the way he'd teasingly call her that over their summer together, and blushes to the roots of her hair. She should have known she couldn't handle being alone with him. It brings back too many buried memories.

"Are you ever gonna ask me that question, Logan?" As far as segues go, it isn't the smoothest, but she needed anything to get her mind off their past. She turns to look at him, noticing his eyes on the framed photograph of the four of them at Homecoming. Duncan's arms were loosely wrapped around her shoulders, and even though it wasn't visible in the shot, Logan's arm had grazed her back as well. And at the very edge of the photograph was the virtual dynamo herself, the one who'd gotten her into this whole mess to begin with.

"Do you-" He clears his throat and turns to look at her, his eyes impenetrable. "Do you really think it was better?"


	2. Chapter 2

"Excuse me?" She asks, her voice tearing him out of his thoughts. "Did I think what was better? Lilly being alive? Of _course_ I-" The palm of his hand is covering her mouth, and she's tempted to bite down, but with her luck, that would be what Duncan would walk in on, not during their previous 56 minutes of silence.

"That's not what I meant, Veronica." He replies, his voice low. Her eyes shoot daggers in his direction, and though his lips barely quirk, she can see the laughter in his eyes. "Now, if I take my hand away, will you let me finish?" His tone is teasing, and she knows that it's partly for her sake. But as she looks in his eyes, she can't help wondering if he really will. Finish that is, and when he does, if it'll be what he'd really intended to say in the first place. Somehow, she doubts it. She nods once, for effect, even though she can tell he was going to take his hand away eventually. And when he does, it's almost instinctive that she misses the contact. _You're losing your grip, Mars._

"Go ahead, Logan." She mutters, her bored tone the work of perseverance. _You say it in the bathroom mirror once; you say it a thousand times. _

"I was just thinking…" His voice trails off for a moment, and his fingers snake up to rub the back of his neck. It's something she's seen him do a million times, and yet her lips still part as she watches him, shocked to the core that this little habit of his can affect her so much. "Your hair." He finally finishes, a little forlornly, gazing at her intensely as her fingers graze the tips of it.

"You were thinking about my hair?" The tone in her voice is one she's always used when dealing with him and his bouts of insanity, but this time, it doesn't work. She can tell by the way he doesn't stop looking at her. And also, by the way she almost doesn't want him to.

"It's long." His voice is flat, and he's still looking at her, seemingly trying to find the answers to some question hidden in the depths of her eyes. She doesn't know the answer, though. Hell, she doesn't know the question.

"Hair _grows_, Logan." She responds, fingering her hair more forcefully, and trying not to twist it around her fingers. _Stupid nervous habit, there's nothing to be nervous about._

"Okay." He responds, but he's shaking his head as he does. He keeps glancing back at the photo on top of the television, knots forming in his stomach as he realizes just how far she has regressed.

"You're saying Okay, but you don't look Okay. What does the length of my hair have to do with anything, Logan?" Her nerves are on edge. The proximity to him as well as the way he keeps looking at her are enough to have her Spider sense tingling. Something is definitely going on.

"I loved Lilly." He says, and for a moment, before it registers, it's like a slap in the face. The jealousy that curls up within her is as foreign as well as it is disturbing. Being jealous of your dead best friend is so not the greatest way to end a night.

"I know, Logan." She whispers, her eyes downcast. "You know what, I think I'm gonna go." She's standing now, inching away from him slowly, but he doesn't seem to realize it. "I am sorry." Without thinking, she lets her fingers span his cheek. It's her touch that surprises him out of his reverie.

"Don't." If it had been anyone else-Hell, if had been him any other time, she would have laughed and walked faster. But that haunted look in his eyes, the one she's so familiar with because it's a mirror image of her own…She sits back down, her fingers gripping the strap of her bag, like steel. The second Duncan walks through the door, she's out of there. "She was my life," He's saying, his words permeating through the thick haze of her resolve. She nods, swallowing the lump in her throat uncomfortably. It's stupid to be hurt by this now. She knows it all; she lived through Hurricane Lilly right there with him. "But sometimes," He continues on, as oblivious to her pain as he is to the damage he's inflicting on himself, his nails digging bloody grooves into the skin of his palm. Without thinking, she grasps his hand in hers, and though he looks at her, she can tell its not really her he sees. "But sometimes, I just…I couldn't do it. I didn't want her gone; I just wanted, I dunno, a little peace or something. And Lilly didn't know the meaning of the word." She nods, to placate him mostly, but also because beneath the surface of her memory of their idealistic friendship, Lilly had been something. Something _else_. A veritable landmine when she was annoyed, and when she was angry, Veronica had learned to steer clear. But still, a best friend was a best friend. And besides Wallace, Lilly was the best she'd ever had.

"I'm sorry, Logan." She whispers, all at once glad she hadn't called before she came over. They were rarely alone lately, something she had carefully orchestrated, but that he'd done too, avoiding her at all costs. It hurt, that.

"And now, you're growing out your hair, and fading into the background again, and I just…I'd hate to see you lose everything you worked so hard to get last year." She drops his hand as she stares at him, the fire in her eyes sparking, anger oozing from every pour.

"Fading into the background?" She exclaims, standing. She can't be that close to him anymore, it's messing with her mind too much. Her hands are shaking so hard that her knuckles are turning white, but she can't help it. "Is that what you think? That just because I'm not dating _you_ anymore, I'm fading into the background? Of all the conceited arrogant, _assholic_ things you could have said-"

"Veronica-" He reaches up to touch her, but she backs away her chin setting firmly.

"_Don't_ touch me. I am not fading into the background. I am _happy_. Last year was the hardest of my entire life and you want me to go back there? Are you crazy?" Somewhere inside she realizes that she's screaming, and fleetingly wonders if the Neptune Grand has soundproof walls. She certainly hopes so.

"Veronica," He's standing now, walking closer to her, towering over her, and all she wants to do is run. It's what she does best, and she's got it down to an art. She can't back down now, though. He can't be right. She won't let him. "I _never_ wanted you to be unhappy." She scoffs at this, and would turn and run out the door this very second, if he wasn't pressing her against it. Her fingers grip the silver handle and if he moves, even an inch, she'll be free.

"But you think that being with Duncan is making me unhappy. That I'm falling into some sort of time warp where I'm small and scared and in Lilly's shadow?" She doesn't pause to consider the validity of this, even as it catches something inside her. "In case you've forgotten Logan, Lilly's gone. She's dead. And there's no one's shadow to fall behind." Tears are welling behind her eyes now, and even as she's blinking them back, willing them away, one escapes her ministrations and slips haphazardly down her cheek.

"Veronica," He murmurs, leaning a scant inch forward to cup her cheek. Before his fingers can even touch her skin, she's pulling down on the door handle and stumbling into the hallway. Duncan, walking out of the elevator is visibly surprised to see her.

"Duncan!" She exclaims, wiping her eyes discreetly. Her excitement fizzles though, when he vacantly kisses her forehead and moves to step into the suite.

"You don't mind not spending the night, do you babe?" He asks, not even bothering to turn around and look at her. Her cheeks burn. She can feel Logan's eyes on her. "I'm really beat." Without even bothering to listen to her response in the affirmative, he slips inside, patting Logan on the shoulder as he goes. She hazards a look up at him, his eyes boring into hers. Without a word, she runs to the elevator, eternally grateful that it only takes a moment for its doors to open.

"Veronica!" He calls out again, and his eyes are the last thing she sees before the doors close.


	3. Chapter 3

"Veronica, this isn't like you." He mumbles as she pulls him into the girl's bathroom, her fingers running through his hair, her lips hot and insistent on his as she wraps herself around him.

"What isn't like me, baby?" She breathes as she hoists herself onto the counter, which isn't as comfortable as she remembers. She's already lifted half of her shirt off, finally giving up and wrapping her arms around him again. Kissing her lightly, he takes a step back, blinking down at her. Her black bra shimmers in the fluorescent light.

"This…" He trails off gesturing at them both wiping his lips with the back of his hand, his eyes guarded. "_That_." He points to her shirtlessness, and she shivers in humiliation.

"I'm offering you sex in between Physics lectures and you're turning me down?" She asks incredulously, unwanted anger surging through her, already pulling her shirt back down, her cheeks flaming and Logan's words swirling unbelievably through her brain.

"No, V. C'mon. It's not like that at all. I just," His voice lowers the teensiest bit as he takes a step closer to her, and takes her hand in his. "I always want it to be perfect for you." He pauses again, and takes another look around the bathroom. "And that counter does _not_ look too comfortable." He's laughing now, and she can't help but remembering being in here with Logan. _It was damn comfortable then._ Not matter how hard she tries to push the memory out of her mind it won't go, persistent to stay at the very center of consciousness. He's offering her his other hand now, and even though she's very capable of getting down herself, she lets him help her, trying not to acknowledge how right Logan was. _Gotta apologize to him for that one._ "Are you coming?" He asks, and if it were anyone but Duncan, she'd swear he'd sounded annoyed. But there's a look of ease on his face, and his eyes are light. She nods, pushing the water valve and splashing the cool liquid on her face. _Maybe it'll wake you up a bit, Mars._ _Of course what was exciting with Logan wouldn't fit with Duncan's gentlemanliness. Stupid, stupid, stupid._

"Just give me a minute. You go ahead." She turns to tell him to be careful about walking into the hallway before he goes, but he's gone before she can. The bell rings. Maybe no one will notice him.

x

"Just _what_ were you doing to Duncan Kane in the bathroom, Mars?" Shocked at his question, she blinks as her tray thumps onto the table, her face pale.

"Excuse me?" She asks, her stomach dropping. Up until a second ago, Wallace had been laughing, but now all of the amusement drains from his face.

"Wait, it's _true_?" Her eyes close in anguish, and she rubs her fingers over her temples to keep her head from exploding.

"I didn't say that." She mutters quietly, cursing Duncan quietly. _This had _never_ happened with Logan._ He chooses that exact moment to walk by, and flicks his eyes callously over hers as he does so. _So he knows. Super._

"What _did_ you say, V?" He moves to hail her, bending his head at her presence. "Because seriously, girl. Are you crazy? Pimping out at school like that?" She swallows once, and her throat is like sandpaper. Sighing, she stands, scanning the cafeteria. "Veronica, where are you going?" He calls to her retreating form, but she can't hear him. She's a woman on a mission. As she walks across the quad she scans it for where he's sitting; the normal '09er table, having been taken over by their successors; the overly ambitious underclassmen.

"Can I talk to you for a sec?" She asks when she spots his table, and reaches it. Dick is laughing so hard at the sight of her that she's spared his asinine words. She's thankful for that. She's expecting an insult of some kind, a verbal kick me sign, but he doesn't say a word, merely standing and as she starts to walk, following her.

"You wanted something?" He asks as they slip into the main building, the hallway abandoned. His voice is cold, but not cruel, civil but not kind.

"I'm sorry, Okay, Logan? For the way I acted on Saturday night, for things I can't even begin to apologize for right now. But seriously, I shouldn't have screamed at you like that. I know how hard…" She trails off, unsure how to finish that particular sentence. _How hard it's been for you since Lilly died? Since you found out your father killed her? Since I left you?_ None of these seem sufficient. It's a combination of all three and more, of which there is no word for. So she settles for, "I'm just sorry, Okay?" If she's waiting for some sort of indication that he's forgiven her, she gets none. He doesn't say a word, even as she turns around and starts to walk back outside again.

"I'm sorry too." He whispers, and she freezes as she heard the words, the skin of her arms prickling.

"For what?" She asks. She hasn't turned back to face him, standing immobile at the entrance to the building. She knows she should move, but she can't, terrified of what she'll see in his eyes.

"For everything, Veronica." She can sense that he's moved closer, but as his fingers grasp her arm, she still gasps, the contact unexpected. He turns her to face him, his chocolate eyes smoldering.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She whispers, her face already tipping up to meet his. Even if he tells her that he spread the (all too true) rumor about her and Duncan, she'd still want him to kiss her. They've been building up to this for days, and for the moment she just wants to get it over it, to see if the old spark is still there. She wants to doubt it.

"I still love you." He murmurs, and then his lips are on hers, and she forgets everything.


	4. Chapter 4

She is acutely aware of someone standing above her. As she moves to stretch, she becomes _distinctly_ aware of the fact that she's not wearing anything. And by the time she cracks open her eyes, she's ready to scream.

"Morning, Veronica." He's refusing to look at her in the eye, which she realizes as code for: Your Nipples Are Poking Out Of the VERY Thin Sheet That's Covering You. Please Do Something to Rectify That. So as discreetly as possible she drags over the pillow she'd been sleeping on and fluffs it a few times for effect. _Not discreet enough, I guess_;she notices, because as soon as the pillow is settled in her lap, his eyes are blinking up to hers. "Do you want some coffee?" He asks awkwardly, gesturing towards the steaming pot sitting pretty on the unfamiliar end table on his side of the room. Shaking her head, she gulps as she glances around the room, not recognizing any of it. _And I would be where?_

"No, thanks." She replies equally as awkwardly. She reaches up to do something with the nest her hair must be and her sheet slips down a little. She notices only because his cheeks are pink again. "I'd uh…the bathroom? Where is it?" He nods once, standing and turning his back to her, presumably so she can get off of the bed and into some sort of respectable position and not embarrass herself again.

"It's um, it's just right through this door," He gestures without looking at her. She's thankful for that, as she hasn't exactly got the toga thing down yet. Or at all really. "On the left."

"And my clothes? Do you know where those are?" She asks, and twinges as she tries to remember how she got here. The rest of that sentence being, _so I can get out of this sheet, dress myself and never ever be able to look you in the eye again._

"I think-after you got sick, I think Logan put them in the washer. But I'm not too sure." _Sick? I got sick? _Sick_, sick?_ "You _were_ pretty wasted, V. I wasn't here when for all of it, but I bet Logan wouldn't have um…" He trails off again, his cheeks blushing furiously. "He wouldn't have taken them without a good reason." He turns, smiling tightly and looks directly at the space behind her left earlobe.

"I'm…sure he wouldn't either. You wouldn't know where he _is_, would you?" She asks, a flirty smile on her face until she realizes that flirting might not be the best course of action, considering her chosen attire for the moment.

"With your dad." He responds, and her face pales. _Logan Echolls is with my father. _My_ father. Who kicked him out of our apartment a month ago? In what universe might _that_ be normal? _Her confusion must show on her face, because bites his lip before blushing again. _Oh god, Veronica. _What_ did you do?_ "He figured that uh…well, that your dad might not love that you were out all night. So he and Dick…they came up with this story, and they-"

"Dick?" Her head throbs, the hangover finally fully settling in, and for the second time in as many minutes she tries to make sense of the situation. It doesn't seem to be working.

"Yeah," He's chuckling now, and even manages to look into her eyes for a second. "You kicked him pretty hard last night. That I _was_ here for."

"I kicked Dick." It's more of a statement than a question, but her voice wavers a bit at the end, her eyes scrunched up for some sort of memory of the previous evening, but each time she thinks she's got something, it fades into the background.

"Yeah. It was awesome. He's totally got a scar that'll be around awhile." She nods uncomfortably, and he smiles back, amusement shining through his friendly brown eyes.

"So the bathroom?" She asks after a moment of absolute silence. They've never been alone before, and the realization seems to dawn on them at the exact, same moment. He blushes furiously and she wishes she was anywhere but here.

"Down the hallway." His voice is strangled as she passes him, and she blushes hot all over, noting that he's probably getting an eyeful. "And to the _left_. Second door." She nods as she hurries away, not even turning as she waves a hand goodbye. As she walks further into the hallway, the space feels somewhat more familiar, and as she gets to the internal balcony, she finally realizes where she is. _The beach house._ The place where she and Logan- She cuts herself off before she can finish her thought, but memories once so adeptly hidden start to flow to the surface, and her head is pounding so hard that she has to lean against the railing to keep from slumping to the floor.

"Now if I could wake up to that image everyday, I would definitely spend more time here." Startled, she tries in vain to tug the sheet down further on her legs, but gives up as she remembers that he's seen it all anyway.

"Do you want to explain to me why I woke up in the Casablancas' beach house with Beaver standing vigil or should I just assume its one of those non things that I keep having to forget when you're involved." For a confused, hung over girl the barb is sharp, and he winces even though he tries hard not to show it.

"This is what I get in thanks for saving your ass? Next time I'll let you _finish_ that striptease. Bet you'll be _really_ thankful in the morning." Her face pales considerably at his words, and he regrets them the second they come out of his mouth.

"S-_strip_tease?" She manages, her eyes wide. His face is blank and expressionless, but his eyes are guarded and she knows that's a bad sign. "So I just randomly started taking off my clothes at the Casablancas' beach house. Great." She's talking more to herself than to him, and slumping against the rail, she leans her head against her hands resting them her knees. He tries not to gape at her tumbled beauty. "How did I _get_ here?" She misses the look of sheer adoration on his face, and he hides it away before she can get a second glance. "I mean, I couldn't get here on my own. Every time I've been here, it was either with Duncan, or you or Lilly…one of you was driving. I couldn't have possibly gotten here by myself." His cheeks redden, and this time she doesn't miss it. "What? Oh god. Was I drunk _before_ I got here? Did I come on to Dick? Is that why I kicked him? Because he tried to cop a feel-?" There's a greenish sheen to her skin now, and palm down, she presses her hand to her lips to keep the bile in.

"Mars, even if you were naked and smeared with whipped cream, I would _never_ tap that." A strange sense of relief soars through her, and for once, she's not even offended at Dick's asinine_ness_. "Well, I mean…if I was really fucked up, maybe you'd get to feel the Dickernator, but seriously it's not a-" She holds her hand up to stop him, finally noticing his lounging form on the chaise across the room. His arm is thrown over his eyes to keep out the offending sunlight, and there's a large red gash on the right side of his face. She bites her lip to keep from laughing. _I did that. Points for _me

"So if not Dick, then…?" Her voice is softer now, and he realizes finally that she doesn't remember any of it. Which, he muses, is probably for the best.

"Something happened with D babe, and when I got back to the suite, you were really…" His voice fades out for a moment, as he recalls her mascara smeared eyes and tear stained face when he'd found her sprawled on the suite's couch in an unfamiliar black nightie.

"Really…?" She's looking at him questioningly, mild annoyance flitting across her features. He can't blame her, but he doesn't want to embarrass her either. He knows how much it'll hurt.

"Uh…upset. And I think," He laughs lightly, just a hint of amusement under his breath as he remembers her bawdily asking him to join her in discovering the finer arts of scotch. "I think you hit the Grand's liquor cabinet a little _hard_." She nods, taking his words in, trying so hard to remember, but coming up empty.

"I don't…I don't remember _anything_." He glances at her for a moment, his dark eyes meeting hers, and for a moment, everything else fades away, and his words come back to haunt her. _I still love you._ Dick's laughter breaks them out of their trance.

"Maybe that's better, Mars. You were a sight to _see_ last night." Her cheeks burning, she moves to stand, her sheet unknotting a little as she twists her arm to grab the railing above her.

"Here, let me help you." He murmurs, at her side almost instantly, lifting her as if she weighed nothing.

"Thanks." She mumbles wearily, tugging the sheet up a little higher, and practically hiding within it. He doesn't blame her. "Um, so Beaver said something about the bathroom being somewhere?" Belatedly she realizes how little sense her sentence makes. _Apparently I had a rough night. I totally deserve the slack._

"Yeah," He responds, his hand wrapping around her very naked forearm, and steering her around. "It's this way," He continues, pointing down another white-carpeted hallway that she hadn't even noticed before. She can barely breathe with him so close, and as she takes a step, she stumbles slightly and suddenly his hands are back on her again, and her skin is on _fire_. She wonders if he can tell. He probably can. _Oh fuck it._ The memories sprinkle back in droves, and she remembers how his skin felt all over her. How he'd felt- "V? Are you Okay? You look funny." His voice is close-barely a whisper in her ear, and she blushes even deeper than before.

"Me? Yeah. Fine. I'll be better once I get this walking thing down. Promise." He nods at her, smiling tightly, and she realizes that they've reached what she's assuming is the bathroom door. "And considering we've stopped, I'm assuming that this is the bathroom."

"You're pretty smart for a drunk girl, y'know that?" He teases, and she smacks him on the arm. It's just a light tap-barely anything, but his arms wrap around her again, and he's tickling her in all the secret spots nobody's ever thought to look for. Out of nowhere she finds herself looking straight into his eyes, which are definitely a giddy killer. They're smoldering and deep, and without even realizing it, she leans up and kisses him, her lips burning hot against his. The sheet magically disappears, and finally she's naked and willing beneath him. "Oh god, V. I've-" He drops a kiss on the top of her head as he bucks against her. She arches up, nodding, and dragging his head down so she can kiss him again. She'd forgotten how great this was. How _perfect_ he could be. "Veronica," He breathes against the skin of her neck, shuddering as he pulls away. "If we're gonna do this," He pauses for a moment, so she can back out if she wants to. It might kill him, but he won't pressure her into something she doesn't want. He wants this…whatever this heat is between them, to be for real. _Permanent_. But he won't make a move without her consent-unless she wants it as much as he does. She's licking her lips, her eyes shining just a few inches below him, and he can't help himself. He leans forward and kisses her, his lips searing into her skin. "If we do this," He mumbles again, looking away so he won't get lost in her.

"You'll need condoms." She finishes for him, leaning up to kiss him again, and his heart constricts. "And I," She pulls away for a second, wiping the corner of her mouth with her knuckles. "I'll need to go to the bathroom." She leans forward to kiss him again, but he's laughing too hard to let her.

"And if that isn't the mood killer of the year, ladies and gentlemen, I don't know what is." His eyes dance merrily as they gaze into hers and grinning mischievously, she tilts her head to the side, her eyebrows rising with unspoken challenge.

"Is that so, Mr. Echolls." She practically purrs, pushing him against the wall and clambering into his lap. "I beg to differ." She breathes when she's settled comfortably, and looks at him straight in the eye as she slips her hand beneath the waistband of his sweats. And a grin spreads across her face. "And so," She pauses, winking comically. "Does this guy." She squeezes, and his face pales. Wrapping his arms around her again, he kisses her, his lips fusing to hers.

"If you keep that up, Mars, I'm gonna cum in my pants. And you _know_ you don't want that to happen." He whispers against her ear, and she laughs, until he bites down, and a low ebb of pleasure flows through her.

"Okay, Okay." She protests, her hands pressing against his chest. "You find condoms, I pee, we meet back here in 5 minutes." Her breathing is ragged, and he can't help but kissing her again.

"Well, y'know Veronica, I wasn't planning on getting lucky this weekend…" He teases and she can't help but laughing, the sound low and breathy, and completely not like her at all.

"I'm sure _Dick_," Her fingers sneak down his waistband again. "Has some. He always seems to want to be getting lucky." He nods, panting. He doesn't ever want her to stop. "But I bet he can't always follow through. I bet you don't have that problem, do you, Logan?" She squeezes again, and he shakes his head no. She doesn't need to know that he hasn't been able to be with anyone since her.

"Condoms. 5 minutes. Yes, ma'am." He does a weak salute, and she can't help but laughing. Standing, he leans to kiss her again, yanking her up with him, and wrapping his arms around her. "We've gotta stop meeting like this, Mars." He murmurs against her lips, and she only smiles, her heart shining through her for once, not guarded eyes. Kissing her again, he bends her backwards, and balancing her with only his hand, he grabs the discarded sheet from its corner, and wraps it around her shoulders. "5 minutes, Veronica!" He whispers when he reaches the end of the hallway, turning back to look at her. She's grinning broadly, her skin flushed and glowing, and he can't remember ever have seeing anyone as beautiful.

"5 minutes." She responds, lifting her palm to display the number. He laughs, ducking his head, and in another second, he's gone. Humming to herself, Veronica adjusts the sheet, wrapping it tightly around her chest. Twisting the doorknob, she grins broadly, almost as if she's unable to help herself, until she notices a pool of black silk in the middle of the tile floor. Every one of her instincts is screaming at her not to look, to turn around and run away. To go back to Logan, who'll surely be back in less than 5 minutes. But she can't help herself. Bending slightly, she snatches it up, a shiver rustling through her. And as she holds it lengthwise in front of her, her memories of the previous night come rushing back. "Oh my god." She breathes, her hands shaking. _What a mess I've made._ Rushing out of the bathroom, she runs down the back stairs, relief coursing through her as she spots Logan's keys thrown haphazardly on the landing. "I've got to get out of here."


	5. Chapter 5

"If my life were a movie," She mutters to herself squinting out the windshield at the exit sign in front of her and sighing as she realizes that she has no idea where she is or, in fact, how to get home; or back where she came from, come to think of it. _Keep going straight ahead, I guess. I'm bound to bump into something._ "If my life were a movie," She continues, sighing deeply. "Right about now, I would be making this really spiffy mental list of all the things that are really terrible about my existence. Like, for instance, the fact that I stole my ex-boyfriend's _car_, and that the only thing keeping the curious passerby from seeing me clad only in a flimsy white sheet is this Red Sox sweatshirt that I found in the backseat, and also that despite all my other far more evident criminal offences like the stealing, and the practically being naked while driving and oh, not to mention _shoelessness_, my father would disown me for being near this sweatshirt, let alone wearing it." Speeding up as she sees yet another sign, she sighs as she realizes that the destinations are as foreign to her as if they were on another planet. _Mars? Ha ha._ "If my life were a movie," She continues on, biting down harder on her lip and glancing in the rearview. There's practically no one on the road. She hasn't decided whether that's a good or bad thing yet. "Like right about now, my affable best friend like character would magically materialize next to me, out of sheer will and determination on my part." She quickly glances to the passenger seat, but when Wallace doesn't appear, she mutters "figures," under her breath before speeding up again to glance at yet another unfamiliar set of cities on the sign overhead. Out of nowhere, she hears the faint, tinny sounds of a cell phone, and reaching into the console, feels around for it. Nothing. "I think I'm losing my mind. Of course, considering I'm talking to myself now, sitting in a stolen car, and going home half naked and shoeless, I'm thinking that crazy is probably an understatement." The tone sounds again, and this time she's sure she heard it. Her fingers dig deeper through the mess of the console until her fingers clasp around the offending cell. "Hello?" She answers finally, partly because she's sick of having only herself to talk to, and partly because she's lost, cold and, she realizes, hungry.

"And to think, I thought this was _my_ cell phone." Oh no. _Logan_. His voice doesn't sound too angry, but he's got one of those impenetrable shields that's been hiding hurt and torture for years. She used to be able to hear through it, could always tell if something was wrong, but he stopped letting her in around the time she stopped trying to get there. She tries to tell herself that there really isn't anything beneath the veneer, but while she can fool other people into believing that, she's never been too great at fooling herself.

"Did you plant it?" The second the words are out of her mouth, she regrets them. She's got to stop accusing him of everything. She's getting the distinct feeling he thinks she left because of him, and if she could spare the charity, she would set him straight.

"How did you _know_?" Inwardly sighing, she flips the turn signal, merging from right to left because it gives her something to do. The faux cheerfulness in his tone is a sure tip-off that he's not too happy with her, but that was to be expected.

"Lucky guess," She mutters, squinting in pain as a beam of sunlight hits her directly in the eyes. That list is getting pretty damn long.

"Yes, Veronica. Because instinctively I knew I would be going to Dick and Beaver's, anticipated your need to toss your cookies on not one but _3_ national landmarks, and could have in my wildest dreams, cooked up everything that happened this morning. Then of course I _expected_ that you would run at the first sign of real intimacy, and while I was _getting condoms_, I was really planting my cell phone in the car so I could call you later and make you feel guilty." _Ouch_. His sarcasm stings, but what hurts more is that under different circumstances, she probably would have accused him of something exactly like that. There's a list out there of things she has to make up to people. Stop accusing Logan of things he didn't do is right there at the top with, be more truthful to dad, and take Backup on more runs at Dog Beach while the weather is still this gorgeous. Sighing, she has to admit he has a point, although she'd never really doubted that in the first place.

"There was definitely a little disappearing act on your part, though," She mutters, speeding up again, and finally spotting one name she recognizes: San Diego, 75 miles. Exit 118. _Thank God._

"Oh, my dear. I would _so_ not be talking about disappearing acts right about now, considering you're in, and I'm assuming _driving_ stolen property and are clad in only a _sheet_." Zing. _2 _more_ points for Logan. Dammit._

"I'm sorry, Okay, Logan? It…it just got too intense for me. I had to get out of there." _When in doubt, lie, lie, lie. _

"Hmm, I'm sorry Ms. Mars, you've used that excuse already." This is true, she realizes, and sighs again, shifting the phone to the crook of her neck so she can have both hands on the wheel.

"Have I told you that this car drives like a dream, Echolls?" She asks, hoping he'll let her off easy, and that in some way shape or form they can get past this. Whatever _this_ is.

"Did you know you're terrible at segues?" He asks dryly, and though she doesn't want to, she has to laugh.

"But it _does_. For a stolen car, it's pretty damn passable. But y'know, normally I go for things of a somewhat higher caliber. You know, BMWs, Mercedes, Mini Coopers…now _there's_ a mighty fine getaway car. But an X-Terra, and a canary yellow one at that? Not exactly what would be my first choice." He laughs, and the low sound sends shivers through her. _This is why I shouldn't be around Logan Echolls. He affects me way too much._

"Why did you leave, Veronica?" She can picture his movements, from the languid way he's sitting, leaning languorously against the bathroom door, settled comfortably on the rug, his features amused, but his eyes sad and guarded.

"Did you think I wouldn't remember? After last night, after what you saw and what you did for me…how could you honestly have wanted me to stay?" She pictures the surprise on his face. His features molding themselves into his game face, giving nothing away.

"Veronica…nothing that happened yesterday would change-"

"Would change what, Logan?" She's laughing scornfully now, surprised that she has to blink tears from her eyes. "How you ever thought that we could actually have a normal functioning relationship after everything…"

"Veronica-"

"And the thing is, I let myself go along with it. I knew it wouldn't work, _couldn't_ work, but I let you think it could. Because I so wanted it to." The tears are streaming down her cheeks now, and she doesn't bother wiping them away.

"Veronica, I love you." She sniffs loudly, and can't help laughing through it.

"You don't love me, Logan. A few kisses after trying to feel me up in the back of your truck is not love. It's stupidity." She hears his sharp intake of breath, and honestly, didn't mean for the words to tumble out, but now that they have, she's kind of glad. The further away from her he is, the better off. She doesn't need to wreck someone else's life.

"You don't really think that." His voice isn't as soft as she'd expected it to be. It's not hard either, but steady and constant, two words she'd have never associated with him before, but that have lately fit perfectly.

"I do, Logan. I really do." Her voice breaks at the end, and a fresh flood of tears streams down her cheeks. Taking a hand from the wheel, she wipes her tears away with her fingers, praying that he can't hear her.

"Is this because of Duncan?" He asks, and even though she'd been expecting it, the question still catches her off guard. _Why should it though? Duncan is the catalyst to this whole mess. I could say yes. Make it an easy break. Maybe then it won't hurt as-_

"I-"

"I can hear you thinking, Veronica. If not Duncan, then what? Is it me? Tell me it's me and I'll-well, Okay, maybe I _won't_ leave you alone," She laughs out loud at that, sniffling and wiping her tears along the way. "But I'll pretend to." She nods, belatedly realizing that he can't see her. Another sign reading SAN DIEGO appears before her, and she's never been so relieved in her entire life. "So c'mon, do it. Tell me you don't love me." She sighs, as she alternates shoulders for the phone to rest on as she merges from lane to lane again, getting as close to the San Diego exit ramp as she possibly can, even though it isn't for at least another 5 miles.

"I don't love you." She murmurs. Her voice is low, but straightforward, and her hands are clamped so tight on the steering wheel that her knuckles are turning white.

"_Liar_." He breathes, and she clicks off the phone, throwing it back into the console before erupting into a flood of tears. Pressing her hand to her face to keep the tears in, she signals into the breakdown lane, and pulls over, resting her head against the steering wheel and letting her tears flow. It isn't until there's a knock on the X-Terra's window that she stops, wiping her face with her hand, and swallowing before she turns to look. Logan stands there, strong and unflappable in his gray cotton sweatpants, his hair ruffling in the wind. As their eyes lock, the tears fill her eyes again, and though she tries to blink them away, they persistently fall. Fumbling clumsily to unlock the car door, she's out in less than a minute, and already catapulting herself into his arms before the door has closed behind her. She sobs softly into his shoulder.

"Thank God." She whispers, just before tugging him to her and brushing her lips with hers. She's never been so glad to see someone in her entire life.


End file.
